


Dr. Hannah

by Roselyn



Category: A Cure For Wellness (2016)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, Dry Sex, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Hannah's getting curious, Incest, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parent/Child Incest, Puberty, Roleplay, Rough play, Sexual Experimentation, Tie Kink, Volmer and Hannah roleplay again, Volmer wants to please Hannah, dentist's chair, eels in belly, swollen belly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 02:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15920982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselyn/pseuds/Roselyn
Summary: Volmer and Hannah are role playing again.Hannah is getting curious.





	Dr. Hannah

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy writing this probably more than I should. . .

Dr. Volmer whimpers in pain, hand pressed tightly against his swollen stomach, as he stumbles into the dental quarters. 

It is late; the sanitarium is asleep, except for Dr. Hannah. 

“H-help me, doctor! You have to help me—” Another spasm of pain takes over and Heinreich Vomer cries out, leaning against the dentist’s chair. He’s in severe pain. He’s going to die. Only Hannah can help him. 

“What would be the matter?” the beautiful young doctor asks, spinning around in her chair. She’s wearing one of Volmer’s white coats over her night gown and there is a notebook in her hand. She’s also wearing glasses, Dr. Volmer notices, for his grate amusement. He does not smile, though; he does not want to drop out of his role. 

“It hurts. . . it hurts so much!” Volmer cries out again, clutching his pushed out stomach. “I can feel it in me. . . slithering inside my stomach!” He has no notion of how there could be a full grown eel inside of him; he just wants to make up something new, to excite the girl. 

“Please sit down, let me have a look at you,” Dr. Hannah says, gesturing towards the chair. She takes off her glasses, leaving them on the table. Volmer wonders whom they belonged to, as he lowers himself on the chair, lying down.

“Please hold still, otherwise I’ll have to restrain you,” Hannah’s mouse-like voice tells, as Volmer holds his heavily swollen stomach with both hands, squirming in faked agony. His breathing is labored and he cries out louder, making a sobbing sound. 

“H-help me. Oh god, please help me!” The water he’s sprayed on his brow glitters like sweat.

Hannah grabs his hands, gently but firmly, cuffing him to the chair. 

She takes a pair of blue gloves from the table, putting them on before moving to open his shirt. 

She does the task swifter than usually, parting the fabric, exposing the round globe of his stomach, in which the monstrous eel is supposed dwell. 

Volmer breathes faster, making the tight dome of his stomach rise and fall softly. His cock is hard. The edge of his belt digs into his flesh. 

Hannah notices this as well and undoes the buckle, yanking his trousers a little lower, before starting to examine him. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” she whispers, starting to press his stomach. She starts from the upper belly, slowly moving down. 

Volmer makes sure to breathe shallowly all the time, occasionally pushing his stomach out further, to mimic the movements of the giant eel. 

The girl’s gloved hands meet at his navel at the peak of his belly and Volmer moans silently. 

“Lower. . . lower. . .” 

Hannah obeys, sliding her hands to his lower stomach, pressing slightly. 

And Volmer gasps. Hannah’s eyes flash dark and wanton. 

She presses out some more, a little deeper, allowing her fingers to sink into his flesh. 

Volmer cries out loudly. There’s some real sweat at his brow and upper lip. He’s getting more excited. It doesn’t matter; he’s wearing a fresh mask and Hannah can play as long as she likes. 

“It hurts! Oh god it hurts! The pain! It’s intolerable!”

Hannah presses his belly again, going through his lower stomach with two gentle gloved fingers. She presses the spot below the swell of his rounded stomach, before moving just below his navel. 

“I think I will have to cut you open,” she whispers. Her hand rests gently on his belly.

“C-cut me open?” Volmer pants, fighting his pleasure. “You’re going to cut open my stomach?”

“Yes. From here, to here,” the girl tells, running a gloved finger across the swell of his lower belly. 

Volmer whimpers, pushing out his stomach for several times. The giant eel inside jerks, pressing against the thin, stretched out skin of his belly. 

“I must hurry,” Hannah tells, snatching a knife from the tray. It’s one of those prank knives Volmer has gotten for her. It’s plastic, the blade goes in. . . Hannah gets to grant (her urges?) herself, Volmer gets his release . . . It’s safe. Safer than a letter opener; at least, should Hannah get too excited. 

“W-wait! What about anesthesia?” Volmer asks, moaning right after his words, arching his back. He grits his teeth in faked pain, rolling his belly. 

“There’s no time,” Hannah tells, feverishly, taking a wet wipe from the tray. She opens the packet, running the wet slightly scented towel over his exposed stomach. The coolness of it feels strange, stimulating, and is soon followed by Hannah’s mock-knife, as she climbs to take a seat on top of his thighs. 

She plants the blade to the right side of his lower abdomen, the eel filled mound of his poor torment stomach, and slides it slowly across his skin, just below the large swell. 

The blade leaves behind a thin trail of sugary blood and Volmer gasps, crying out. He makes a sobbing sound of shocked pain, starting to pant. His stomach rises and falls with the gesture. 

“Hannah, Oh Hannah. . .” 

The girl whimpers, shivering. She shifts to a better position, taking support from his chest. She frowns. 

“Hannah?” 

She blushes, getting back with the game. 

“Just lay still; I am going to pull it out.” 

Her hands land back on his stomach and Dr. Volmer continues his sobbing. He makes another louder cry and whimpers, as Hannah’s hands slip inside from the imaginary wound. 

Volmer closes his eyes, he breathes a little faster. “Oh doctor please. . . please get it out of me!”

Hannah makes a small sound, shifting. She moves higher, just below his throbbing erection. 

She grabs the imaginary eel, pulling it out. 

Volmer whimpers with the gesture. He makes his stomach shrink. He forces himself breathe slower. 

“Hannah. . . please. . . I’m dying. . .”

The girl whimpers again, frowning. She looks uncomfortable. 

“Sit a little higher, Hannah,” Dr. Volmer offers, helpful. He loves to watch Hannah get her pleasure.

She doesn’t move higher, but leans in to lick the sticky fake blood off his belly. Her sweet lips stitch up the gaping wound with a trail of kisses. 

Volmer sighs. He’s getting close. 

Hannah moves lower, kissing him, the tip of her tongue touches his skin. Slowly, gently, she licks her way down his navel, all the way to the waistline of his trousers. 

She stops, considering. And pulls his waistline a little lower. 

Her mouth rests just above the black pubic hair, the throbbing tower of his erection, still (barely) covered by his trousers. 

She plants an experimenting kiss there, making Volmer gasp in unexpected pleasure. 

“H-Hannah. . . sweet girl. . .”

“I want you to try the cure Heinreich,” she whispers, running her tongue softly along his lowered waistline. “Try it once more, for me.” 

She licks him again, teasingly. Too gently to finish him; too gently to grant him release. “Please, Heinreich. I promise I’ll let you lie on top of me. I want you to. . .” 

Dr. Volmer is uncertain what to say. He’s too deep in his pleasure, too aroused, aching for his release. 

“Oh, my sweet Hannah. . .” 

She lowers her gaze, her cheeks glow redder still. “I want your hands, Heinreich. . . I want them . . . under the dress.” 

Dr. Volmer is getting lost in his pleasure. He’s close, so very close. And Hannah promises him such sweet things. . .

He whimpers, squirming in the agony of his delayed release. “I can’t Hannah, you know I can’t. . . It’s dangerous. The cure is very dangerous. . . It can kill me. . . Oh, my sweet Hannah. . .”

Hannah moves in to claim his mouth, her thigh presses against the bulge of his arousal. 

And Volmer is finished. 

He draws a shivering breath, spent, exhausted, relieved. 

It had been too close. Hannah had almost made him promise. . . 

The girl looks at him, almost accusingly. She shifts back on his lap, pressing her hips against his softened cock. A sound of frustration escapes her lips. 

Volmer is uncertain what to say. His head’s still swimming, filled with all the sweet promises Hannah made, if he only tried the cure. . . Just once more. 

“I didn’t feel. . . the thing,” Hannah whispers, rubbing his belly. She looks disappointed. 

“Will you release my hands?” Dr. Volmer finally asks, clearing his throat. “I’ll give you what you want.” He smiles. “The sweet thing.”

Hannah removes her gloves, but does not make a move to release his hands. 

“Why is it different?” she asks, running her palm gently over his front. 

Dr. Volmer arches his head back, trying to steady his breath. Now how should he explain this?

“I was hurting very badly, but you helped me. You made me feel very good, Hannah.”

She hesitates, shy. Her fingertips rub him through his trousers. “Like this? Is this good?”

Volmer nods, closing his eyes for a moment. He can hardly believe this. 

“Yes Hannah. It is very good.”

The girl smiles, very shy. She brushes her hand over his front again, considering. 

“Can you. . . make it like it was before?” 

This, Dr. Volmer could call as progress. 

“Yes Hannah. Yes I can. Just give me a moment,” he breathes, fighting a smile. 

Hannah waits, obedient. 

She lies on top of him in the chair. Her cheek rests against his bare chest; her leg rests between his thighs. 

Her fingers stoke his side softly, cool against his skin. 

“How much longer?”

“Put your hand down there again,” Volmer instructs, closing his eyes. 

Hannah obeys. She stokes him slowly through the fabric, making him aroused. 

Vomer swallows, his eyes are still closed. “Hannah. . . my sweet girl. . .” 

If she only knew what she was doing to him. . .

“Take a seat on top me.”

Hannah does, curiously, eagerly . . . and rolls her hips. 

Volmer arches his back in pleasure. He’s glad to fulfill any curiosities Hannah might have. 

She rolls her hips again, deeper and closes her eyes. Her hands rest on his stomach, fingers spread wide over his tensed abs. 

“Slowly Hannah, do it slowly. . .” 

She does, pressing her sex against his erection. She’s aroused; Volmer can feel it even through the clothing. The moist hotness of her pussy is tormenting. He wants to touch her, he wants it so badly. 

Hannah moans, letting out a silent mewl. “H-Heinreich!” 

“Kiss me Hannah, please kiss me.” 

She does, cupping his cheeks. She claims his mouth, hungrily and slips her tongue inside his mouth. Her fingers sink into his hair. 

And they are finished. Both of them. 

Volmer is pleased. His brow is covered in sweat as Hannah looks down at him, her lips parted, her cheeks glowing. And she touches herself, right there, between her parted thighs. 

“Will you release my hands?” the good doctor asks through the haze of his second pleasure. His lips curl up into a lazy smile.

Hannah shakes her head. 

She leans in to kiss the lob of his ear. “I want more.”


End file.
